


Recursive

by Lucifra



Category: Fire Emblem Heroes, Fire Emblem Series, Rick Astley (Musician)
Genre: Crack, Crack Treated Seriously, Magic, Nonbinary Character, Nonbinary Summoner | Eclat | Kiran, Rick-Rolling, Weaponized Rick-Rolling, ask to tag, i am Not Kidding about that, she gets rick rolled to death, the major character death tag is for Hel
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-04
Updated: 2020-09-04
Packaged: 2021-03-06 17:35:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26292724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lucifra/pseuds/Lucifra
Summary: Or, alternatively, How Hel Really Died, featuring Rick Astley, Rick-Rolling, and people treating it seriously. (Recursive means a process or function that refers to itself)
Relationships: at least until they add peony later, i know i didn't say who eir's girlfriends were but that's who they are, if i build on this world, mentioned Fjorm/Sharena/Eir
Comments: 1
Kudos: 5





	Recursive

**Author's Note:**

  * For [prettypinklass](https://archiveofourown.org/users/prettypinklass/gifts).



> This was spawned when, in a Discord server, someone posted Rick Astley’s cover of Titanium. The owner didn’t realize he was still alive, and then I made the joke “he’s never gonna give you up, not even for death.” Then, we got into talking and then someone brought up Fjorm and I made a throwaway comment about Rick-rolling Hel to death. Someone decided they needed to read that, and here we are.

“I wonder who we’re gonna summon today!” Anna, as always, was exuberant even in the face of what Breidablik displayed as a glitched-out “Free 5-Star Hero Giveaway!”

“If all goes well,” snarked Kiran safely under their breath, so neither the Commander nor the exuberant Princess Sharena could hear her snarky comment.

“Hey, where’s Alfonse?” asked the princess in question, looking around for her brother.

“Ahh…” Anna frowned. “I think he was helping clean up after the harvest festival.”

“Well, he’s no stranger to hard work, after all.”

Kiran sat in her seat in the corner, resisting the urge to sing along with the earworm that phrase had launched into her head. The tapping of her foot was likely the only thing that prevented her from belting out “You know the rules, and so do I” right there, in front of Grima and everybody.

The Outrealmer was saved from their own mind by the arrival of Alfonse, trailed by Fjorm and Eir. “My apologies, the cleanup was more involved than we anticipated.”

“Nah, no worries. Y’all ready to get this show on the road?” asked Kiran, one corner of their mouth quirked up into an easy, confident grin.

“By all means,” said Anna, as she moved out of the way of their Summoning Ruins. Getting nearly squished by Grima’s dragon body not once, but twice, had taught her the wisdom of making sure she was well clear of the ruins while in use.

“Alright, here we go.” Breidablik snapped up, drawing in energy as Kiran prepared to summon the free hero.

The orb that appeared in the center of the monolith was the odd prismatic-sheened gray that they had come to recognize as a limited unit, accompanied by the expected wave of smoke that a 4-to-5 star hero brought.

The plume of light that emerged, on the other hand, was more blinding than any had been in the past.

After rubbing spots from her eyes, Kiran frowned. “Wait, is that- is that Rick Astley?”

“That I am. I’m never gonna let you down, not in combat or otherwise!” The once-meme singer was dressed in an armored variant of a tuxedo, and the lines on his face spoke to experience that would serve him well. In his hand was a microphone that verily crackled with power.

“Wait, who? I’ve never heard of a hero named Rick Astley.” Alfonse frowned, racking his brains.

Kiran smirked. “Show ‘em what you got.”

The singer-mage flipped a switch on the side of the microphone that set a retro groove into motion, then started grooving alongside it.

“Get Rick-rolled,” muttered Kiran under their breath.

“We’re no strangers to love,” crooned the newest Hero, the power of thirty years and change of meme status backing him up. “You know the rules, and so do I!”

The other Heroes were awestruck by the song, so much so that none of them noticed how the light emitted by the microphone was resonating with coronae of pulsating light around Eir and Fjorm, with Eir’s light being gray-white and Fjorm’s being mostly ice-blue with smudges of sickly green.

As Kiran watched, frowning, the sickly green patches in Fjorm’s aura shrunk slightly and the tension in her body language faded slightly as the legendary singer progressed through his greatest hit.

When the microphone lights died away with the last notes of the song, Kiran was gone (as were the auras), but the ersatz tactician returned quickly, Cecilia and Canas in tow. Before anyone could ask, Kiran panted out “His magic… it’s… healing Fjorm.”

The two classically trained mages frowned, then swarmed forward to prod at the microphone.

“Wait, what?” came, in some variant, from the other heroes in the room.

* * *

A few days later, Kiran dropped in on the mages’ research, entering what had once been an armory and stepping delicately around a number of piles of parchment and reference books.

“How’s the research going, you two?”

“Quite well, Kiran.” Cecilia looked up from prodding at Rick Astley’s microphone with a metal rod.

“Yes, yes, quite well indeed. This microphone is inscribed with a number of runes that allow it to channel light magic by connecting to the collective life force of humanity. This, combined with the nature of the song as a surprise… meme, I believe you said, and the fact that it is, at least partially, a love song, allow it to counteract all sorts of deathly effects.” Canas looked up at the summoner. “Honestly, this tome almost reminds me of Roy’s Binding Blade.”

“Oh?” asked Kiran.

“Yes, it’s edging on the territory of a divine weapon.”

“Hmmmm. That’s weird.”

“On another note,” interjected Cecilia, “It appears that this… ‘tome’ is capable of counteracting the power of Hel.”

Kiran’s eyes flashed with a white-gold pattern reminiscent of Breidablik for an instant, then she turned to the experienced mage. “How so?”

“Well, after Alfonse cut off her hand in our last encounter, we’ve been running testing on that. When we had him in here, we tried having him target it with his song. It didn’t work… until Fjorm walked in. Then, we saw that aura effect you mentioned, and it started working properly. After some other generic testing that the readers probably don’t care about, we figured out that Fjorm’s singing is… shall we say effective, if not exactly pleasant.” 

“Sounds kinda convoluted. What’s Fjorm up to now?” asked Kiran.

* * *

“Okay, let’s try again, from the top,” said Shigure.

“I’m not what you wa-ant, but I’m exactly what you need, take a bite and feed your satisfaction guaranteed,” harmonized Shigure and Fjorm.

“Not quite,” cut in Azura. “Try a little more flex next time, like this.”

In the next instant, Azura’s flexed arms contained an entire dictionary’s worth of definition, and Fjorm did a double take to make sure it was Azura she was looking at and not Effie.

Kiria, in the background, laughed.

* * *

“Azura and Shigure said they had some specialized training for Fjorm so she can be ready for the final confrontation with Hel. I do not know what that entails, but I trust their dedication to have her ready,” said Cecilia.

“That’s entirely fair. Well, I’ll leave you to it.” Kiran turned to leave the armory.

“Kiran!” called Cecilia. Once they turned around, Cecilia continued: “It’s likely that Fjorm and Mage Astley won’t be able to defeat Hel immediately, so it would be our considered opinion that you would be wise to prepare for a battle to protect them until such time as they can vanquish Hel.”

After a moment of parsing, Kiran turned back, a smile playing over her lips. “Couldn’t you have just said to bring everything but the kitchen sink?”

Cecilia smiled back and shook her head. “We needed to pad out the wordcount.”

“Oy vey.” Kiran turned, leaving for good this time. There were preparations to make. After all, slaying a god was a momentous occasion. It wouldn’t do to be unprepared for it.

* * *

“Hel! Your reign ends today.” Alfonse unlimbered Fólkvangr from its sling on his back.

“So… at last, the living set foot in the heart of Death’s domain. Although…” Hel focused on Fjorm, who was paler than normal. “For some of you I suspect even absent our battle it would not be for long."

“You have slain countless people, both in our Askr and another… You stole Eir’s family from her. You stole her memories… And as if that wasn’t enough, you stole her very life, again and again! Everyone has suffered bitter loss due to your schemes. I should know--I’ve lost a father to them. Your existence is a blight on this very world, Hel!” By the end of his speech, Alfonse was panting.

“It is indeed, by definition. You speak of death as if it is evil, but the truth is that it simply is. For as long as the living remain alive, they wish to continue to be so. Yet the end to life is an inevitable fact. With every death, on every world, I grow stronger--and the number of worlds, as you know, is limitless… Your demise will soon nourish me, just as your counterpart’s did.” In counterpoint, Hel seemed almost endlessly composed-and why wouldn’t she? Death smoothed over all emotions, and she had no reason to suspect they had the means to slay her.

Yet.

“Bet.” Kiran drawled the world out and paired it with an almost irreverent roll of her hand that ended in a single upraised finger facing Hel.

“How dare you defy me! I am Death! I am inevitable, foolish worm, and-” Alfonse had to give Kiran this much: they were excellent at getting under their foes’ skin, when it came to it.

“I don’t wanna end death,” began Kiran, a slight lift to her lips. “Without death, life turns into pointless misery. No, what I want is an end to this senseless slaughter. And yes, your power may be limitless, but not even you yourself are exempted from oblivion. Besides, I’ve got something cooked up that can get everyone, no matter who.” Kiran’s grin morphed into something much more predatory. “Take it away, you two.”

As if it had been rehearsed (which Kiran would never admit to doing), the army of Heroes split in the front to reveal Fjorm and Rick Astley.

To their credit, the Desert Mercenaries froze for no more than a second even as the pair of Heroes focused, triggering Rick Astley’s Loyal Rod to start up the groove that, in another world, would have been instantly recognizable by nigh on anyone.

While the two singers focused on their mystical music, it was up to the other heroes to defend them-and defend they did, with a dozen manaketes transforming in a single massive flash as Hel raised her hands, summoning her legions to attack.

“We’re no strangers to love,” sang the duo, brilliant lights stretching out towards Hel from the mic held in the two of their hands. “You know the rules and so do I!”

The next three minutes were a whirlwind of clashing blades, roaring dragons, and sizzling spells all accompanied by the incongruous melodies of Rick Astley and Fjorm and the lights glowing from both the singers and Hel, with the Goddess of Death’s flesh pulsating between the sickly green present around Fjorm and the bloodred that matched Thrasir.

“Foolish mortals!” snarled Hel, the goo of her flesh becoming paler and more transparent by the second. “I will rend the flesh from your bones and forge your spine into a blade!”

“Never gonna give you up, never gonna let you down, never gonna run around and desert you,” replied the two singers.

“My child, do not let them kill me!” shouted Hel, glaring at Eir.

The woman in question turned her back on the deity that was her mother in name only.

Hel fell from her position hovering above the battlefield, crashing painfully to the floor before pushing herself up to her knees. “Why? Why do you persist in this?”

Kiran walked over, and crouched down next to Hel, easily avoiding her feeble swipe of her scythe and then trapping it under their boot. “Because,” they sighed, “what you’re doing isn’t death. It’s senseless slaughter.”

“But why fight back?”

Kiran turned the question over in her mind for a moment, Fjorm and Rick Astley singing in the background. “Because,” she said at last, “I’m the one who can. I have the power to help, so I should.”

“Ah. An idealist.” Hel smiled. “Keep my daughter safe.”

Kiran huffed out a laugh. “I think her girlfriends have that covered.” Kiran stood, the song drawing to a close. “Enjoy your peace, Hel.”

Then, the Summoner turned her back on the dying death deity and returned to the living.

* * *

The heroes had, of course, thrown a party to celebrate the end of the campaign against Nifl. While not particularly enthusiastic about it, Kiran understood that she did have to attend lest they send someone to nag her into joining, just as they had done for all the other parties the Order of Heroes had thrown.. So far, no one had managed to break Henry’s 13-second (which had involved a flock of crows, her pencil collection, and 37 pounds of taffy) record for getting her out of her room, but she wasn’t eager to see what they had come up with-Tharja had been very confident in her assertions that she had a good solution that, based on past experience with Tharja’s plots, she was Not Eager To Experience.

So they were at the party, if reluctantly.

“Something on your mind, Kiran?” asked Anna, sidling up to the solemn summoner.

“Parties… well, they weren’t exactly my scene back home, and even knowing everyone here I’m still not in my natural habitat.” She shrugged.

“No, I don’t think that’s it.” Kiran turned to Anna, frowning. “You’ve been… morose of late.”

“I mean…” Kiran sighed. “It’s just that every time we have one of these ‘we won the big battle’ parties, something always goes wrong right after.”

Anna shoved Kiran in the shoulder. “Come on, Kiran! We’re the Order of Heroes! If something goes wrong, we’ll solve the problem! That’s why we’re here.

“Besides,” smirked Anna, “I got permission from Alfonse to fine you for the Order’s coffers if you keep bringing down the mood of the party.”

Needless to say, Kiran did a turnaround and began participating more actively, and to this day, they’d deny the massive karaoke contest that ended up being mostly between them, Azura, and Rick Astley. Kiran didn’t win-after all, they were up against two professional singers, one of whom had been singing since before they had been born. But they did give a respectable performance, and after the dust settled, they were looking much more upbeat, even if they got dragged into an arm-wrestling tournament by CHOP right after.

Let the gods and monsters of the world come.

The Order of Heroes would be there to stand against them-with the aid of two Outrealmers from Earth.

**Author's Note:**

> And there we have it.
> 
> I was Not Expecting This To Go This Way, but hey, whatever works works.
> 
> I’m probably gonna finish up Delta S1E5 after this, so for those of you who are worried about that it’ll come out next Friday assuming all goes to keikaku.


End file.
